


Sleep Tight

by onward_came_the_meteors



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, One Shot, POV Third Person, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Protective Thor (Marvel), Team Dynamics, Thor Could Not Agree More with the Previous Statement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onward_came_the_meteors/pseuds/onward_came_the_meteors
Summary: Thor hadn't expected to finish the mission with Bruce Banner falling asleep on top of him, but he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Thor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Sleep Tight

  
  


Thor hadn’t expected to finish the mission with Bruce Banner falling asleep on top of him, but he didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter.

The mission itself had been straightforward, as many of them had been over the past few months. JARVIS or Heimdall (when he was in a good mood) or the remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D. (or at least the trail of files and transportation records) had pointed them in the direction of the possible location of the scepter (yes,  _ the  _ scepter, the one Loki had used, the one that had apparently fallen off the planet after the fight in New York, the one Thor didn’t like to think about without the air starting to crackle) and they had gone and assembled themselves to go retrieve it. Thor had introduced some enemies’ skulls to Mjolnir, the captain had hit things with his little circle shield, Natasha had snuck through the base and zapped Hydra agents, Stark had flown around commenting on everything, and—who was he forgetting—Barton had been shooting his arrows from whatever high-up hidey-hole he’d found this time.

Oh yes, and Banner had transformed into the Hulk. It was still fascinating to watch even after all this time, even if he had swatted Thor into a wall about fifteen minutes later (To be fair, perhaps the Hulk didn’t like being used as a springboard, but hey, Thor had needed to reach the top of that roof  _ somehow _ ). He’d made up for it, though, when one stomp of a green foot was enough to send twenty Hydra agents tripping over themselves.

But even with all that, the base had held no scepter (several of his teammates had muttered that they were going to start keeping a tally chart) and it was bruised and exhausted that the Avengers had returned to the quinjet.

Some a little more exhausted than others.

Thor was sitting with his back against the wall, having only intended to stay there a few minutes while everyone else organized themselves and Tony and Steve got their little “You know, I could have used some air support when that group of agents was surrounding me and Nat” “Where were you when the rooftop exploded and Barton fell through the ceiling” out of the way, but then he’d started to feel a warm weight slowly but surely slumping onto his right shoulder, until Bruce was absolutely definitely asleep and Thor was stuck.

_ At least he is clothed this time _ , he thought, looking out of his peripheral vision down at Bruce, whose original clothes had been completely shredded and who was now wearing an oversized sweatshirt that in all likelihood didn’t belong to him (in fact, all signs pointed to it belonging to Steve, which was interesting) and sweatpants that probably did but only because no one else in the Tower owned a pair. 

No socks or shoes, though, he noticed as Bruce curled his feet underneath him, up off the cold floor.  _ I should remind one of the others next time. _ And hopefully they would find the scepter soon, and there wouldn’t be a need for many more “next times.”

Not that he didn’t like the Avengers. He did. It had taken a while, but they’d grown on him. Even if Tony did still call him “Point Break” while refusing to explain what that meant and Clint kept making jokes revolving around some place called Area 51.

“All right, did everybody buckle up?” Tony’s voice from the pilot seat shattered Thor’s train of thought, and he winced as Bruce stirred slightly at the noise.

“Depends on whether you or JARVIS is driving,” Natasha called back. She was seated across from him, her face streaked with dirt and sweat and one bleeding cut that started under the eye.

“Well, I’m not sitting up here for the view.”

With a shudder, the quinjet lifted off the ground and into the sky, leaving the quite-possibly-still-burning wreckage of the latest Hydra base behind them. Thor could practically feel everybody heaving a sigh.

It was silent for a moment while they all patched up injuries, checked weapons, and stared blankly into the middle distance. Tony flicked a few more switches on the instrument panel and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. Steve pulled off his helmet and tossed it onto the seat next to him, revealing blond hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. Natasha curled sideways onto her seat and closed her eyes, but judging from the sliver of eyeball that could just barely be seen, she was still awake. And Clint was…  _ where was Clint? _

Oh, there he was—perched a few seats away from Natasha and holding one of his arms close to his body in a way that made Thor suspect he’d fallen through that ceiling a lot less gracefully than he’d tried to have them all believe. There was also an impressive bruise coloring on one side of his face, making his smirk when he spotted Thor watching him that much more distorted.

“You’re looking pretty cozy there. Planning to stay like that for the whole flight back?”

Thor was opening his mouth to respond when a dry voice came from where Natasha was  _ definitely  _ not asleep.

“Of course he is; he’s not a monster.” Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth quirked into a smile as she asked, “Would  _ you  _ want to move him?”

Clint shrugged. “If he drooled, I wouldn’t make any promises.”

“He’s fine,” Thor assured them. “He is just tired after a long battle. Happens to all of us—or all of you mortals, anyway.” He smiled as he looked back down at Bruce, who was breathing softly into his armor. The top of his curly hair was starting to tickle Thor’s neck, but he didn’t dare to move upwards in case it woke Bruce up.

He might very likely end up sitting here for the rest of the flight back.

The sound of ripping fabric interrupted whatever sarcastic comment Clint was going to make, and all their heads turned to where Steve was half-standing, a strip of his uniform torn away at a place above his knee where he’d apparently gotten… stabbed? Skewered? Shot? Impaled in some way? Whatever had happened, there was a lot of blood, most of it dried enough that Thor could assume the injury had happened near the beginning of the fight.

“You all right, Cap?” Tony spun his chair around. “I didn’t expect you to be  _ that  _ anxious to take your clothes off—”

“I got stuck in a tight spot,” Steve interrupted. “With a building.” Noticing the others’ mixed concerned and amused gazes, he added, “It’ll heal in no time.”

“You’re sure? ‘Cause you’re looking a little red, white, and black and blue there.” Tony nodded to the bruises blooming up the now-exposed part of Steve’s leg.

Steve gave Tony one of his looks, the kind that made you wonder whether he hadn’t really lived through a hundred years, and disappeared into the back bathroom, snatching the medical kit off the wall on his way.

Tony shook his head. “I think we’re getting to him. He didn’t even try to get in the last word.”

“Six hours in an enclosed space with you would get to anyone, Stark,” Natasha said. She glanced over at Thor, not even trying to hide her smile anymore. “But keep your voice down, we wouldn’t want to bother these two.”

Thor sighed as Tony immediately perked up. “Oh yeah, don’t think we’re not seeing this, Sparky. JARVIS  _ will  _ be keeping video evidence.”

“I suggest you find some hobbies, Stark,” Thor said mildly.

“You think this isn’t a hobby? Tell that to the clip I’ve got of Cap falling asleep standing up and dropping his shield on Clint’s head. That will be  _ excellent _ blackmail material one day.”

“My point stands.”

“That thing is a lot heavier than you think it is,” Clint remarked, rubbing the top of his head almost unconsciously.

Thor felt movement against his chest and went still, but Bruce had just shifted in his sleep, mumbling something as he brought up a hand to rest on Thor’s chestplate. A generous person could have called the position they now held a “hug,” but Thor didn’t want to press it. Bruce would already be uncomfortable enough when he did wake up—transforming back from the Hulk always left him a lot jumpier than usual, and most of the time he would either hide out in his bedroom or in the labs (whenever the latter happened, Tony would suddenly be spending a lot more time hanging out in the communal area with the vague explanation that wasn’t really an explanation so much as a series of hand-wavy gestures), and he didn’t want to add to it.

He wondered if maybe he  _ should  _ move Bruce, then, if he never would have fallen asleep on him voluntarily—to try and minimize the embarrassment and the teasing from the rest of the team even if by now it was probably too late. He didn’t want to invade his personal space… although, really, considering how this situation had occurred, maybe he shouldn’t be the one who was worried. 

And Bruce just looked so  _ peaceful _ . Natasha was right, Thor would be a monster to move him now. None of the team ever looked anything within the realm of what could be called peaceful after a mission, but Bruce especially so. Thor didn’t know how much he remembered from when he changed, but he’d seen the Hulk crushing tanks and charging through explosions, so waking up after any of that couldn’t have been fun. Usually, once he was clothed and had wiped off at least some of the grime that he was more often than not covered in (the Hulk was not picky about where he decided to roll around), Bruce would find a corner and huddle there for the foreseeable future, sometimes with headphones or reading material so he could give the impression of being more “adjusted” than “shell-shocked.” The team had an unspoken rule of don’t-bother-Banner during those times for exactly that reason.

Today, though, Bruce looked like the quinjet could explode, plunging them all into the depths of whatever middle-of-nowhere forestry Hydra-base-land (Thor was pretty sure either Natasha or Tony had mentioned something about them being in Europe), and he wouldn’t stir an inch. His face was relaxed, his eyes brushed closed instead of squeezed tightly shut to force himself to sleep. If he was dreaming, it wasn’t anything that would be a cause for concern, unlike the times when he would sit bolt upright in his seat, trying to hide his shaking. And there was still the matter of his hand on Thor’s chestplate.

No, Thor didn’t think he would be moving him anytime soon. He could deal with what to do when Bruce woke up once the quinjet had landed back at the Tower.

His decision-making was interrupted when Steve reappeared from the back of the quinjet dressed in civilian clothes, his uniform hanging from one hand and the injury on his leg neatly wrapped up. His serum-enhanced healing must have already begun, as he wasn’t limping at all.

“Hey, Tony? Does the shower back there work?”

Tony had been messing with something on the control panel, but spun his chair around at Steve’s voice. “No, it’s there for decoration. ‘Course it works, Rogers, everything on this jet was designed by yours truly.”

“How could I forget. I meant, does it work when we’re in the air?”

“You’re just—you’re wounding me, Cap, seriously. Of course it does, it uses the same water filtration system I use for the suit—”

“Thank you, Tony; I almost went a full day without remembering that you pee in your suit.” Steve sat down opposite Clint and pulled his shield up so it leaned against the wall. Tony smirked as Steve rested his head in his hands. A few moments later, he lifted it again to look at Thor.

“You know, if he’s bothering you, I could probably help you get him to his own seat.”

Thor instinctively looked down at Bruce, still sound asleep on his shoulder. “No, that’s not necessary.” He spoke as quietly as he could so as not to wake him.

Steve’s expression turned skeptical. “Come on, Thor, you were fighting pretty hard out there too; you should be able to rest. Something tells me he won’t even notice.”

“This is relaxing enough,” Thor assured him. Carefully, carefully, he slid one arm out from underneath Bruce and slung it over his back, pulling him just the slightest bit closer into his chest. Bruce gave a little sigh and Thor couldn’t help but smile.

“If you say so.” Steve kept his gaze on the two of them for a second longer before shrugging and leaning back, closing his eyes. Across from him, Clint had his fist jammed in his mouth and Tony was muttering something that sounded like “JARVIS, you had better be recording.”

Thor didn’t mind. He hadn’t been lying—this  _ was  _ relaxing, having this little warm ball of scientist pressed up against him. And as an added bonus, he got to make sure Bruce was actually sleeping, something none of them really got enough of after missions.

So he closed his own eyes and listened to the thrum of the quinjet as they soared through the sky.

* * *

Bruce woke up sometime in between spots of turbulence once they were over the Atlantic Ocean. Thor was aware of it instantly, even with his eyes closed, because there was suddenly a lot of shifting around underneath his arm before Bruce finally sat up.

It took a couple seconds for him to figure out where he was; Thor watched as his gaze flicked from the ceiling of the quinjet to the gleaming (well, less than usual now that it had been through a battle) metal of Thor’s chestplate before finally backing up to Thor’s actual face, his eyes widening. 

Thor grinned at him. “Good morning.” It was actually nearing midnight in this time zone, which was why the other four Avengers were dead to the world in their various seats and JARVIS had taken over piloting, but Bruce didn’t need to know that.

Bruce just stared at him at first, his mind clearly working hard to make sense of the situation he was now in and the last thing he remembered (which would have been  _ yesterday _ , before the Code Green, no wonder he was confused) and making them fit together. “Thor? What is—” His eyes widened again as he apparently put together what their presence on the quinjet meant. “We had a mission and—did I hurt anybody?”

“You helped us in vanquishing our enemies, yes. Unfortunately, we still have not found the scepter, but another Hydra base has been successfully destroyed.”

Bruce nodded slowly and blinked as he peered around the rest of the quinjet. Thor made another mental note: socks, shoes,  _ and  _ glasses for next time. “And the team? Tony and Nat and—”

“All unhurt.”

“‘Kay.” Bruce’s voice rasped and he coughed quickly before continuing, carefully not meeting Thor’s eyes. “I guess I should apologize, then. I didn’t mean to... “ He gestured helplessly at Thor’s arm, which was still half-draped over him. “This.”

Thor couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. “There is absolutely no need for an apology, Bruce. Do you really think I’d still be sitting here if I didn’t want to be?”

Whatever Bruce had expected Thor to say, this clearly wasn’t it. He paused for a moment before answering. “It’s ‘Bruce,’ now, huh?”

Thor shrugged. “Why not? You call me by my first name.”

“That’s because you don’t  _ have  _ a last name. And I don’t think ‘son of Odin’ counts.” Bruce was clearly trying to keep up his end of the conversation, but he was slowly leaning more and more back into Thor’s side as he spoke, his eyes slipping between open and closed.

“It does on Asgard. And you can go back to sleep if you want.” Thor slid aside on the seat to make more room.

Bruce’s head had been half an inch away from being pillowed on Thor’s chest again, but at that he started to push himself upright. “No, I don’t want to bother you—”

“I’m not bothered. I just said so.”

“I can find another seat—”

“But you don’t have to.” Gently, Thor reached the arm he still had around Bruce’s shoulder and tugged him back down. “Wow. You’re very warm.” He had been before, probably, but Thor had assumed that was his own heightened senses thrown into extra sensitivity by the battle. Now, though, it was like having a heater under his arm—with any other Midgardian, Thor might have been concerned, but he’d learned by now that Bruce’s (and Steve’s) bodies operated by their own rules.

“Radiation,” Bruce mumbled automatically. He blinked up at Thor’s face, already starting to drift asleep. “You sure this is okay?”

“Yes.” Thor leaned back, letting Bruce settle into his shoulder—which was tingling with pins and needles, but he could not emphasize how much he didn’t mind—as he wrapped his arm around him. “Now hush and go back to sleep.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
